here today

 

m.i.a.

I am missing in action, missing myself, missing me.


I am wandering lost looking for home even the new house is not home yet boxes everywhere. Ben’s car was broken into the first night we stayed there sitting sweetly in the driveway someone looking for change I think. And I wonder I really do.
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I wonder about paint swatches and searching out that perfect Art Deco chandelier. I wonder about the stove I bought just because it is blue on the inside and the new bakery two blocks away that makes an amazing gazpacho and serves Stumptown coffee. I wonder about that mixed in with the hunger or desperation needed to walk up a driveway and dig around a glovebox looking for quarters while the people inside watch their Tivo recorded playback of Spike Lee’s documentary on Katrina.
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I am looking for a center something to hold onto while my world swirls. I am helping troubled people by listening to them but during the day my job is to make sure that rich people keep all of their money. I love helping I love listening and I love gazpacho and chandeliers. People ask me how I’m doing and I list out the list of the move and my traineeship and school and overtime at work and then I say with an odd little smile that other than that I am fine. What is that for that odd smile that lie that other than that I am fine. What is that for.
.

I am wandering lost inside myself.

Posted by: 120pages at 14:17 | link | comments (3) |